


Golden

by physicalmachinist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Poetry, almost made this a poem without plot, love letter, now it’s a poem with minimal plot, poem fic, who doesn't like good old form?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/physicalmachinist/pseuds/physicalmachinist
Summary: “Atsumu groans and turns onto his other side. He considers attempting to go back to sleep. He didn’t get much of it last night, and what little he did have was not enough to push through whatever the day would bring. However, he knows the sun peeking through the blinds will keep him from doing just that. He reaches for his phone to check the time without lifting his head. His hand meets something paper-like, prompting him to look at his nightstand. A sealed envelope.”After an argument from the previous night, Atsumu wakes up to a note from Kiyoomi.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the sestina but felt like I had to sprinkle in some story to give it some razzle-dazzle. Hope you enjoy :)

Atsumu wakes up in his bed on an icy morning. He shivers as the heater works to warm up his bedroom against the winter air. As he becomes increasingly more aware of his surroundings, he notices an absence. There’s no Kiyoomi next to him, yet the outline of his body is in the sheets. Atsumu lets out a sigh. He recalls the night before– Kiyoomi told a seemingly harmless joke that poked a bit too far, and when Atsumu confronted him about it, Kiyoomi said that he was too sensitive about a lot of things. One thing led to another, and Kiyoomi ended up sleeping on the couch for the night. Well, except that he snuck back into bed at some point overnight. Atsumu vaguely remembers feeling the bed compress under Kiyoomi’s weight as he got into it, but he was too tired and upset to make an effort to say something.

Atsumu groans and turns onto his other side. He considers going back to sleep. He didn’t get much of it last night, and what little he did have was not enough to push through whatever the day would bring. However, he knows the sun peeking through the blinds will keep him from doing just that. He reaches for his phone to check the time without lifting his head. His hand meets something paper-like, prompting him to look at his nightstand. A sealed envelope. 

Atsumu’s brain accelerates to the worst case possible– Kiyoomi deciding he can no longer deal with him. A letter giving Atsumu a deadline to pack his things and leave. Such a fate would devastate him. He hesitates to open the envelope but realizes what’s done is done. No amount of overthinking or what-ifs can change what’s written.

He tears open the back of the envelope and sees his name in Kiyoomi’s handwriting across the front of the letter. He unfolds the paper, which Atsumu recognizes is from one of Kiyoomi’s stationery collectibles. The paper is bordered by a black frame with shiny gold stars spread along the edge. Atsumu recalls teasing Kiyoomi for buying stationery that the both of them knew he’d never use. Now, Atsumu stands corrected.

His heart beats faster as he begins to read the letter.

_Atsumu,_

_I know I’m not the best at admitting when I’m wrong, but I wanted you to know that no matter what, I love you, and no petty argument is going to change that. I’m sorry about the dumb joke that I made and for downplaying your feelings. To make it up to you, I wrote you a poem (don’t laugh):_

_I knew you were special when your hair, golden_

_danced as you jumped in the air. Higher were your hands_

_as they kissed the ball– a gift to me from you._

_My hand spiked your toss that was set to perfection_

_and shifted all there was to volleyball that I came to trust._

_That was the moment I learned about love._

_I never predicted I’d be teammates with Love,_

_and I couldn’t help but be drawn to your golden_

_smile as you played. I put my doubts away and gave you all my trust_

_as you held your own gently in your hands–_

_the ones that never failed me and are manicured to perfection,_

_and I looked forward to my future on the court with you._

_Both on and off the court I gravitated towards you_

_since everything you did was filled with love,_

_like preparing me hibiscus tea, strained to perfection_

_and fused with honey– sweet and golden_

_like your eyes when you watched my hands._

_My hands learned to love yours as I first held them with trust._

_I never knew I could give so much trust_

_to anyone before I met you._

_I no longer hesitated to grab you by the hands_

_and give you all of me, my Love._

_After, you asked me if I was okay. I said, “I’m golden.”_

_The comfort you gave as you held me tight was perfection._

_I never paid mind to details until I saw your eye for perfection,_

_and I noticed you increasingly yield to me your trust._

_The sun rose the next day and painted your face golden._

_I would sell all of my possessions to wake up next to you_

_every day. You’ve stolen my heart and all my love_

_falls into your graceful hands._

_You stroked my hair with your hands._

_A moment irreplaceable– absolute perfection._

_I marvel at how lucky I am to be in love with Love._

_You’ll take care of me, that I trust_

_because as with anything you love, you put all of you_

_into it. And that’s what makes you golden._

_You are the love you deliver through your hands._

_Your touch is golden; nothing short of perfection._

_You fill me up with joy and trust. I like who I am when I’m with you._

_That’s all the lovey-dovey you’ll get from me, but I owe this one to you._

_Love,_

_Your Omi-Omi._

Atsumu’s eyes flood. How could Omi-Omi make him cry so early in the morning? He sniffles away his runny nose as he wipes away a couple of tears, and the smell of sausage seeps through the door. He launches himself from the bed and heads over to the kitchen. Kiyoomi is preparing food over the stove, which is a sight Atsumu doesn’t often see. Atsumu typically takes joy in preparing food for the both of them, but this time it seems like Kiyoomi is taking on the role. 

“Omi?”

“Atsumu!” Kiyoomi turns his head slightly towards Atsumu as he cracks an egg into a pan. “I hope I didn’t wake you up. I’m making us breakfast.”

Atsumu’s face contorts as he transforms from a light cry to a full-on bawl. Kiyoomi starts to turn around to check on his boyfriend only to be met with said boyfriend holding onto him tightly. 

“I read your letter and the poem, Omi, I love you,” Atsumu mumbles into the back of Kiyoomi’s shoulder.

Kiyoomi decreases the heat on the stove and turns around to hug him back. He rubs one hand up and down Atsumu’s back and wipes his tears with his other hand.

“I love you too, Atsumu. And once again, I’m really sor–” 

Atsumu interrupts Kiyoomi with a kiss. It’s deep and reckless and long. Atsumu pulls away first, and says, “I know, Omi-Omi. Let’s forget about it?”

Kiyoomi agrees, and the two smile while their eyes lock with each other, neither wanting to resurface from the depth of the other’s loving gaze. 

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on twitter @ never_sh0w_fear


End file.
